Poughkeepsie
by dragonflybeach
Summary: The reason "Poughkeepsie" became their code word for "drop everything and run" was because that was the one place Child Protective Services caught up with the Winchesters.


They pulled him out of history class, third period on Tuesday morning, asking his teacher to send him to the office. The secretary then took him into the conference room, where two people waited for him, and closed the door behind him.

"Hi Dean." The lady police officer smiled. "Can we talk to you for a moment?"

She asked like he had a choice, but he didn't figure that she or the man in the suit with her would give him the chance to decline.

He still tried. "I'm under eighteen. You can't ask me any questions without my dad here."

"Dean, you're not in any trouble." the officer told him. "We want to talk to you about what happened to Sam."

"Sam?" the hair on the back of Dean's neck stood up. "Where is he?"

"Why don't you just sit down and talk to us?" The man said, smiling like a used car salesman.

"No, not until you tell me where Sam is." Dean forced himself to remain calm, to act casual, even while he scoped out possible escape routes. Only one door. Plate glass windows, probably some kind of safety glass that can't be knocked out easily.

"He's fine." The lady police officer spoke gently. "My partner took him back to the hospital to be checked over again. I'm Officer Nanneman and this is Mr. Kearnes from Child Protective Services. Do you know why we wanted to talk to you?"

He looked from her, to the man in the suit, and back to her.

"No." He shook his head, glancing toward the door before looking back at the cop. "Sam broke his arm at his soccer game Saturday. They ... his team, they won the championship and all the kids were jumping around and piling on top of each other, and Sam ended up on the bottom of the pile. No one hurt him on purpose. There were a bunch of witnesses."

"We know Sam's broken arm was an accident." The man spoke for the first time. "We called his coach, who told us what happened. What we're concerned about are the other injuries Sam has."

"He's a clumsy kid." Dean bluffed. "He gets hurt a lot."

"Does he really?" the woman asked, obviously not believing Dean. "Sit down and talk to us, Dean."

"No." Dean shook his head again. "Just let me go to Sam. This is all a mistake."

"Dean, you're not going anywhere until after we talk." The man said firmly.

"Then bring Sam in here." Dean replied stubbornly.

"We're not going to keep you from Sam." the woman told him. "We'll take you to him in just a little while, right after he's checked over at the hospital. But we need to talk to you first."

"I don't have anything to talk about." Dean grudgingly sat and folded his arms. "I didn't hurt Sam. He broke his arm and it was an accident. You said you talked to his coach."

The cop laid a note pad and paper on the table. There were words on the paper, but she held the pad where Dean couldn't read them.

"Dean, we don't think you hurt Sam. But we're concerned about the fact he had quite a number of bruises in various stages of healing." She began.

"He plays soccer, lady." Dean rolled his eyes. "You know, they run into each other. They get hit with the ball. Of course a scrawny kid like him is gonna end up with bruises."

"He had a set of bruises, one on each arm, in the shape of a man's handprints. As if someone grabbed him from behind, hard enough to leave marks." The man leaned forward, staring at Dean.

"Maybe someone grabbed him in all the chaos after the soccer game." Dean said.

"Those bruises were at least three days old." The cop said." They had already started to turn yellow at the edges."

"He and I wrestle around sometimes. We watch wrestling on tv. Sam thinks he's Hulk Hogan or something. That's probably how those happened." Dean shrugged.

"Are you sure that's how it happened?" The cop asked.

"Well, not a hundred percent." Dean said with another glance at the door, estimating whether he could get it unlocked and out before one of them grabbed him. Probably not. "But most likely."

The two adults glanced at one another and Dean knew he had screwed up before either of them opened their mouths.

"You don't recall an incident with Sam in the woods last week?" The cop flicked her eyes down to the paper momentarily before looking back at Dean carefully. "He said the two of you were messing around in a wooded area, and you grabbed him and yanked him back to keep him from stepping on a snake."

"Oh." Dean nodded and pulled his best impression of Sam's puppy dog eyes. "I didn't think about that. I didn't think I grabbed him that hard. But yeah, that's probably what left the bruises."

"You grabbed Sam and pulled him back from a snake?" the man repeated.

"Yeah?" Dean answered, suddenly sure that wasn't the right answer either.

But it wasn't like he could tell them the truth, that Dad had grabbed Sam when the lights started flickering. He couldn't tell them why Dad freaked so much over the power going out without explaining about things other than a car hitting the pole down the street that make lights flicker.

"Where exactly where you when this happened?" The man asked, watching him carefully.

"Didn't Sam tell you where we were?" Dean asked, hoping his voice didn't betray the panic he was beginning to feel.

"No," the cop shook her head. "He said he wasn't sure where you were, that the two of you had gone out walking and had ended up in some woods somewhere."

"Yeah, I don't really know either." Dean said.

"You weren't in the woods." The man pronounced flatly.

"You can't prove that." Dean leaned back in his chair.

"No, but we can measure your hands, and we can compare those to the measurements we have of the bruises on Sam's arms, and we'll know they were made by someone whose hands are bigger than yours."

Dean dropped all four chair legs back to the floor abruptly. "Dad didn't hurt Sam."

"Dean," the cop sighed. "We've talked to some of your teachers. They say you have bruises a lot more than Sam does. They also told us you're very protective of Sam. If someone is hurting you and Sam, all you have to do is tell us. We can make it stop. If you really want to protect Sam, tell us who to stop."

"You're crazy." Dean stood, backing toward the door, even though he knew he couldn't get away. "My dad doesn't hurt me or Sam or anyone else. My dad is ... "

He turned the knob quickly, and dashed out the door.

He didn't make it halfway to the front doors before the lady cop tackled him from behind. She cuffed him efficiently, and told him to stand.

"Do you have any weapons on you?" She asked.

"I've got a pocket knife in my left shoe." Dean admitted.

She backed him up to lean against the wall while she unlaced his boot and retrieved the knife. "Anything else?"

"No." He shook his head. "Not gonna read me my rights?"

"I'm not arresting you." She said as she stood. "I'm taking you into protective custody on the behalf of Child Protective Services."

"When do I get to see Sam?" Dean asked.

"Right after we take you down to be checked over at the hospital as well." The man replied, walking up to stand beside the cop.

Dean was escorted out of the school and put in the back seat of the police car.

The cop and the CPS guy spoke for a moment, before she got into the front of the squad car and the man got into the plain white sedan parked behind them.

She called in her location, and that she was escorting a male juvenile to St Francis for CPS. Dispatch responded with a time and she started the car.

At the hospital, the cop removed his cuffs before taking Dean inside, but kept a firm grip on his arm. The man spoke to someone at the desk, and the three of them were taken back to the xray area. Dean was asked to strip down to his underwear, and was xrayed from head to toe. Afterward, the three of them were taken to an exam room away from the regular emergency area.

A nure came in, took Dean's vitals, and asked him a long list of questions, most of which were some variation of whether he was being beaten at home and how badly.

"I told you, and I told them," Dean pointed at the cop and the CPS guy. "My dad doesn't do anything to hurt me. Or my brother. So are we done yet?"

"Has your father ever touched you sexually?" The nurse asked as if Dean hadn't even spoken.

"What?" he spluttered. "Lady, what part of this are you not understanding? My dad hasn't done anything to me!"

"Has your father ever asked you to allow someone else to touch you sexually?" the nurse continued.

"I wish." Dean snorted. "When do I get to see Sam?"

"After you've answered the questions and had a physical exam." The CPS man told him.

"Fine." Dean rolled his eyes, and answered at least a dozen more questions that no, his father didn't molest him or allow anyone else to, before they moved on to asking way too many personal questions about whether Dean ever had sex and who with and what they had done and if they used protection.

Just when he was convinced that the questioning could not get any nosier, the nurse moved on to asking Dean if he ever had any sexual relations with Sam, or was aware of anyone else doing so.

He finally answered all of their questions, telling himself that the sooner this was over with, the sooner he could get to Sam.

"Ok, Dean," the nurse smiled at him. "That's all my questions. In just a few minutes, I'm going to get the doctor, and he and I will conduct the physical exam. Do you have any questions for me?"

"When do I get to talk to my dad?" Dean asked. "When do Sam and I get to go home?"

The nurse's smile faded. "I'm going to get the doctor now. You're going to need to put this on." She handed Dean a paper gown and hurried out of the room.

"Dean," the police lady said, like she was talking to a frightened child. "You're not going home any time soon. Your dad ... "

"He didn't hurt us!" Dean shouted. "You can't prove anything!"

"We may not be able to prove physical abuse, yet." the CPS man said. "But we do know that your dad has the three of you living under false identities. He gave a diffferent false name and a fake address to the hospital. That's why it took us two days to track you guys down. He's wanted for fraud and forgery in Nebraska. He's a suspect in crimes in four other states, so far. A warrant has been issued for his arrest, and when he's found, he's probably going to be extradited to another state. You and Sam aren't going back to your dad. We're going to try to get a placement for you and Sam together, but there is a possibility that you may be placed in separate foster care facilities for the time being. Even if you're initially placed together, you're both going to have psychological exams, and if your doctor says it would be better for the two of you to be placed separately, that's what will happen."

_"No!"_ Dean bolted for the door again, but the man blocked his way. "You can't take Sammy away from me! I have to watch out for Sam!"

"Dean," the cop put her hand on his shoulder. "Let them do the physical exam, and then I'll take you to see Sam, okay?"

"I'll do what I can to get you and Sam placed together." The man promised, his face softened for once. "We're going to step out into the hall so you can change. We'll be right outside."

Dean's shoulders slumped, and he nodded.

The cop and the CPS guy stepped out into the hall, closing the door behind them. He could hear them talking, but couldn't make out the words, no matter how hard he tried.

He stripped down to his underwear again, covering himself with the flimsy paper gown. He sat down on the exam table to wait, but less than a minute later, the nurse returned, with CPS Guy and a doctor who shook hands and introduced himself.

Dean didn't bother to remember his name.

CPS Guy stood against the wall. The nurse stood beside the bed with a clipboard and made notes while the doctor checked over every millimeter of Dean's body, calling off locations and descriptions of every scrape, bruise, and scar. The exam including looking behind his ears, between his toes, and in his ass crack, as well as getting way more up close and personal with his junk than most of his dates had. Dean laid quietly through the whole thing, repeating in his head that as soon as they were done, he could see Sam. The nurse walked over and opened the door a crack, and the lady cop returned, with a camera. She photographed several of Dean's bruises and scars.

Finally, as the nurse patted Dean's shoulder and murmured about how wonderfully he had done and that it was almost over, the doctor crossed the room to talk to CPS Guy and the cop.

"I'm not seeing any reason for an internal exam." The doctor said softly, but not softly enough. "There's no acute trauma to the exterior genital region. I could do it to look for scars if you need me to, but we didn't find anything with the other one, and I hate to traumatize another kid unnecessarily."

"You can get dressed now." The nurse smiled at Dean and patted his shoulder again.

"What's an internal exam?" He asked.

Her smile melted away again. "The doctor would look in your bottom, looking for any signs of sexual assault. But he's not going to do it, not today anyway, unless there's something you need to tell us."

"Did he do that to my brother?" Dean pressed.

The nurse didn't meet his eyes. "I can't discuss another patient with you. Hospital rules."

She turned away and followed the doctor out the door. The police officer went with them, leaving Dean alone with CPS Guy.

"They did the internal exam thing to Sam." Dean accused, eyes narrowed.

"I don't know." The man shook his head, his hands splayed wide. "I was with you. But ... handprints on his arms, being grabbed from behind, those are indicators of sexual assault, and the doctor would have been obligated to check him for injuries."

"Take me to Sam _now!"_ Dean ordered.

"As soon as you get dressed." CPS Guy nodded. "What about the broken bones you've had in the past? There were several that showed up on your x-rays, and the doctor said on at least one of them, it doesn't look like you had medical care. Did your dad have anything to do with any of those?"

"No. Just take me to Sam."

Dean threw his clothes on, not caring if the man was watching. CPS Guy took him a few doors down and knocked on the door.

A woman in a dress suit opened the door, wearing a name badge similar to CPS Guy.

"This is the older brother." CPS Guy told her, jerking a thumb at Dean. "I told him he could see his brother for a few minutes."

The woman glanced at Dean suspiciously, then looked back at her co-worker. "You know ... "

"Yeah, I know." CPS Guy nodded. "But as long as one of us is with them, it's probably gonna make everybody feel better to let them see each other."

She glanced back over her shoulder, then turned back and nodded. She looked at Dean. "He's kinda groggy. They gave him some medication."

"Medication? For what?" Dean demanded.

"He was really upset." She said apologetically. "He kept asking for you and he wasn't cooperating with his exam. They gave him something to calm him down."

Dean all but shoved the woman out of the way to get into the room. The lights were dimmed, and Sam lay on an exam table like the one Dean had just been on, apparently asleep.

Even in the low light, with his eyes closed, Dean could see his face was red and blotchy, hear the slight hiccoughs to his breathing, knew that Sammy had been crying hard.

"Sammy." he shook his brother's shoulder gently.

"Dean?" Sam asked, his voice slightly slurred, his eyes dimmed by more than sleep.

"It's me, kid." Dean choked out, trying to hold onto his own composure.

Sam threw both arms around Dean's waist and buried his face in his older brother's belly. "I just wanted you to c-come."

"I'm here now and I've got you." Dean manuevered Sam around so that he could sit on the exam table and pull Sam into his lap, ducking the awkward cast that nearly clunked him in the head, both arms around the child who shook silently, his face buried in Dean's neck, either all cried out, or too drugged up to cry again.

"They said they were gonna take me away." Sam whispered.

"Nobody is taking you away from me." Dean said loudly, with a glare at the two CPS workers. "I don't know what the hell is wrong with these people, taking a kid away from everyone he knows and letting him be molested by some doctor and not even letting his brother stay with him when he's scared."

The man at least had the decency to look ashamed. The woman just shrugged and turned her attention back to Oprah on the tv.

"I wasn't that scared." Sam muttered. "Just don't like a whole lot of strangers looking at me naked."

"Yeah, well they won't be looking at you any more." Dean snapped, his arms tightening around Sam, even thought neither of the CPS people were even looking at them.

"You know what?" the woman asked her co-worker. "Since you're here, I'm going to go get something to eat. I haven't had lunch yet."

She got up and left the room without a backward glance.

"When do we get lunch?" Dean asked. "It's almost three o'clock."

"You haven't had lunch?" the man asked. "Yeah, I guess you didn't. I haven't either, and I've been with you most of the day. Sam, did you have lunch?"

Sam shook his head no, face still hidden in Dean's neck.

"I'm not supposed to leave you two alone." CPS Guy said reluctantly.

"What? You think I'm gonna molest him in the hospital? After what you people have already done to him?" Dean challenged.

"No." the man shook his head. "There's going to be more interviews, and the department wants to make sure you two aren't working together to devise some kind of story. Not that there's much point, because you're not going to be back to your dad's custody. Even if we don't have enough evidence to charge your dad with child abuse, we have enough to convince a judge not to let him have either of you back. Ever."

Sam's grip on Dean tightened.

"So it's okay for you people to come in and break up families, even when nothing happened?" Dean snapped.

"Dean, something happened." CPS Guy sighed. "There's no way the two of you, you especially, would have all those scars and bruises and broken bones if your dad was taking care of you the way he should. I know it's the only thing you've ever known, but you have to trust me when I tell you that the way you've grown up is not healthy."

"So we get snatched out of that horrible situation by CPS, who scare the crap out of kids and don't feed us. Yeah, I can see where that's an improvement." Dean snorted.

CPS Guy opened the door and looked out into the hallway. He stood there for a few moments, until he was finally able to flag down one of the nurses.

While he spoke with the nurse about getting the three of them something to eat, Dean whispered to Sam. "You're scared to death, okay? Play it up. Don't let me out of your sight."

Sam nodded just enough for Dean to feel it.

The nurse returned with some plain turkey sandwiches, applesauce, pudding cups, graham crackers, and a pitcher of water. Sam disentangled himself enough to sit beside Dean on the exam table, and the two of them ate their sandwiches in silence. Sam stuffed the packages of crackers in his pockets, and Dean did the same with the applesauce.

"Boys, you don't have to hoard food." CPS Guy said sadly. "You'll get dinner tonight. See? That's another sign that you haven't grown up in a proper environment. Kids who always have plenty to eat never worry about whether they'll be fed later."

"Yeah, well considering that this is the first we've eaten all day and it's 3pm, I'd say you're not off to a great start." Dean glared at the man.

"Crap, guys I'm sorry." the man sighed, looking at his watch. "I gotta call in, see if Margaret has a placement for you two yet."

Dean nudged Sam so slightly CPS Guy couldn't see it.

"I gotta go to the bathroom." Sam announced.

CPS Guy rolled his eyes. "Come on." He took them down the hall to a door with a blue placard proclaiming it a handicapped restroom. "Go ahead." He waved Sam toward the door. "Dean and I will wait out here."

"No!" Sam threw both arms around Dean's waist. "You'll take him away while I'm in there and I'll never see him again!"

"I won't, I promise." CPS Guy pinched the bridge of his nose. "He and I will just wait right here."

_"NO!"_ Sam wailed.

"Sam, it's only a single seater." The man tried to explain.

"So? Dean's been taking care of me since we were kids. He's seen me use the bathroom before." Sam glared at CPS Guy.

Dean shrugged. "I don't mind."

"You realize that it's inappropriate behavior like this that's probably going to get you two separated?" CPS Guy asked.

"Then just let me stay with him as long as we can." Dean pleaded. "Do you want him to start crying again like he was earlier?"

Right on cue, Sam buried his face in Dean's shirt and started to sob.

CPS Guy paled. "Okay. I don't guess it's that big a problem." He opened the door, flipped on the light, and looked around. "Yeah, okay. No doors or windows. I'll wait right here."

Dean reached over and locked the door and flipped on the exhaust fan as soon as the door closed. He then quickly crossed the room to where metal grab bars had been drilled into the wall. "Too freakin' easy." He muttered softly.

He hoisted himself up to stand with one foot on a grab bar and one braced on the back of the toilet and reached up, pushing a ceiling tile upward. It popped out of place easily, revealing a moderate crawl space between the ceiling and the floor above. Dean pulled himself up into the opening, then reached his hands down for Sam. Dean pointed at the flush handle of the toilet, which Sam pressed with his foot as Dean pulled him up.

"Stay on the metal framework. The tiles won't hold your weight." Dean whispered.

Sam nodded. "How do we get out of here?"

Dean looked around before putting the ceiling tile back in place. "We've probably got two minutes before he starts thinking something's up, and then he's got to find someone with a key to the door. Once they realize we're gone, they're going to block all the public exits. So we follow the duct work back to the source, because that's probably a mechanical room that will have a door to the outside, but they won't cover it because they won't think we can get there."

Sam nodded again.

Dean slid the ceiling tile back into place. "Stay close, because it's going to be dark." He pulled his keychain flashlight from his pocket, flipped it on, and held it in his teeth, but it did little to dispel the darkness broken only by an occasional leak of light around a tile.

They began crawling along the side of an airshaft just as they heard the first knock on the bathroom door, and CPS Guy ask "Hey? You two okay in there?"

"Shit!" Dean whispered.

They crawled as quickly as they dared, until they reached what appeared to be the central air unit, recognizable by the noise and heat coming from the machine, if not by the fact all the ductwork converged in the area.

"Hold up." Dean said directly into Sam's ear.

Dean lifted the edge of one ceiling tile and peered into the room below. He sat back up, shook his head, and crawled over to one side about four tiles. He lifted the next tile, and peeked into that room. He looked around a little, then lifted the tile completely out of the hole and climbed through.

He stood on a desk in what appeared to be an unused office, and held his arms up for Sam.

"Pull the tile over." He hissed as loud as he dared. "Make sure you can reach it to pull it back into place once you come through."

Sam nodded, and then climbed down into Dean's arms. He sat on Dean's shoulder and wiggled the tile back into place, although it showered down dust and specks of plaster on both of them. Dean wiped the mess off the desk, and moved to the door, signalling Sam to stay behind him.

He opened the door to the hall, peeking out to make sure the coast was clear. It was, so he grabbed Sam by the hand and hurried to the end of the hall, where there was a door marked "Mechanical Room - Authorized Personnel Only."

They slipped through the door, flattening their backs against the wall in the shadows. There appeared to be one person working in the room, but his back was to them. Dean signaled for Sam to stay still for a moment, watching the technician. He appeared focused on whatever he was doing, so Dean held up his fingers, counted down three, two, one, and pulled Sam toward where he estimated the door to outside should be.

They circled the perimeter of the room, staying against the wall and in shadows as much as possible, until they reached the door that apparently led to the outside. There, they encountered the first obstacle in their escape plan.

The door was locked.

Dean panicked in the next moment, because when he turned around, Sam was gone. He clapped his hand over his mouth to stop his startled exclamation just as Sam appeared out of the shadows, holding out his hand.

He had managed to find a couple pieces of stray wire.

They were narrower than Dean was used to working with and much longer, but he bent one wire over double and was able to pick the lock in a respectable amount of time. He dropped the two pieces of wire, stood up straight, grabbed Sam's arm, and pushed the door open.

An alarm sounded.

"Come on!" Dean hissed, bolting through the door, still holding Sam's arm.

They ran along the back side of the hospital, then through the parking lots of two doctors' offices before the reached the drug store at the end of the block.

"Dean." Sam wheezed, pressing a hand to his side. "Stop for a minute. Please?"

Dean stopped, nodded, leaned against the wall and bent forward from his waist, trying to catch his breath for a moment.

"How much cash you got?" Dean asked.

"On me?" Sam frowned. "Lunch money."

Dean squinted, thinking. "I've got about $22."

"How are we ... " Sam began, but Dean interrupted, pointing.

A woman was getting a toddler out of a carseat.

"Go knock her purse out of her hand." Dean whispered.

Sam took up running up the sidewalk. "Come on, you promised me candy!" He shouted, turning to look at Dean just in time to collide with the woman.

"Oh my gosh, are you okay?" Dean asked, running up to them. "Sam, you gotta watch where you're going. Here, let's help the lady pick up her stuff and apologize to her."

"Sorry." Sam flashed her the big pitiful eyes as he and Dean bent to pick up the scattered contents of the woman's purse.

"Just ... " the woman's anger faded when confronted with Sam in full puppy mode. "Just be more careful next time. My daughter could have been hurt."

"I will." Sam promised. "I'm so sorry."

"Here ya go, ma'am." Dean handed her the purse. "I'm so sorry. You see how clumsy he is. He's already got a broken arm."

"Thank you for picking everything up." The woman said as she slung the bag over one shoulder, surveying the contents. She pulled out her wallet and looked inside it quickly before she and the little girl continued into the store.

"You didn't take her money?" Sam asked.

"Nope." Dean said, pulling the woman's car keys from his pocket.

Dean quickly unlocked the driver's door and got behind the wheel, pressing the button to open the other door for Sam. They were out of the parking lot in seconds.

Dean drove the opposite direction from the hospital, taking them to a mall. They parked the car and called Pastor Jim from a payphone in the food court.

"Boys? You're all right? And you're together? Oh, thank God." the minister said. "Your dad is frantic. He said to tell you to go to a town called Sloatsburg. It's straight down I-87, just before you get to the New Jersey line. There's a hunter named Annie there, staying at the Turnpike Inn, room 107. Go to her and he will meet you there as soon as he can. Can you get there? It's sixty miles or so from Poughkeepsie."

"We can make it." Dean told him. "We've got enough gas."

They drove south, the trip taking almost two hours in the rush hour traffic. When they reached the town, Dean drove through, passing the Turnpike Inn, and went several more miles, past other motels, to a strip mall. He parked the car in front of a small grocery store, and called the Turnpike Inn from a payphone.

Annie came to pick them up within seven minutes, agreeing that Dean shouldn't bring the stolen car to her motel. She drove them back, stopping to pick up a pizza she had called in when the boys called her.

She didn't say a word about the fact that Sam sat in Dean's lap, instead of the whole empty back seat.

When they reached the motel, she took the boys inside, fed them, gave them the extra bed, and let them be. The brothers clung to one another as if they would never let go and pretended to watch tv.

Dean didn't remember falling asleep, but he woke still dressed in his clothes, with Sam, as usual, wrapped around him like a freakin' octopus. He disentangled his younger brother and made his way to the bathroom, where he washed his face and hands and rinsed his mouth.

He heard the phone ring while he was in there, and came out to find Annie just hanging up the phone.

She smiled at him. "That was your dad. He'll be here in a few minutes."

Dean gently shook his brother awake. "Sammy, Dad's coming."

They didn't have any other clothes to change into, or even toothbrushes, so they just washed Sam's face and hands and straightened their hair as much as they could with damp fingers.

The boys stationed themselves in front of the window, tugging the curtain back about every thirty seconds to see if Dad was there yet. They heard the Impala's engine and were running outside to met the car by the time Dad had it in park.

He opened the door, grabbed both boys, and held onto them as tightly as they held onto him.

Annie finally came to the doorway. "I hate to be a spoilsport, but do you guys maybe wanna come inside?"

Dad straightened a bit, looking over their heads. "I got breakfast for everyone. Annie, can you get it? It's here on the passenger seat."

Dad came inside the room, only letting go of Sam and Dean when they had to separate to walk through the door.

"Dad, I'm sorry." Sam's shoulders were hunched, and if he had tried to get any closer to Dean, he would have ended up on the other side of him. "I should have been more careful after the game."

"I'm sorry." Dean rushed to add. "They got us out of class at school. The police took Sam back to the hospital and I couldn't get to him for hours."

"No." Dad shook his head, and pulled both of them back into his arms again. "It's not your fault, not either one of you. I should have moved us out after we left the ER Saturday night. But they didn't say anything at the hospital, so I thought we were okay."

They ate breakfast, and after a stop at a local mall to swap license plates on the car, they headed west and stayed with Caleb for two weeks.

That summer, Dad took them to see Pastor Jim, telling him that there was something for Sam there. Sam walked into the parsonage to find a foot tall trophy on the table, with an engraved plate that read:

_PAA Youth Soccer League  
__Under 13 Division Champions  
__Sam Simmons_

Pastor Jim never did say how he got it, other than it paid to be a man of the cloth sometimes.


End file.
